


Keep it in the Family

by Nicci



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-05
Updated: 2011-07-05
Packaged: 2017-10-21 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nicci/pseuds/Nicci
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <img/>
  </p>
  <p>Sometimes you just gotta ignore what other people tell you you'll never have.</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Keep it in the Family

**Author's Note:**

> Done for the Mix & Match challenge on ds_flashfiction - 'move the characters around into roles on the show they do not actually have.'
> 
> This fic was originally posted to my website on June 26th, 2005

As jobs went, the post of civilian aid at the 27th wasn't so bad. Sure, the detectives were always hollering at you to 'get this file' or 'that file' or fetch coffee or any one of a hundred and one other boring jobs. But it had its advantages. The biggest of these advantages was definitely the eye candy.

Being more specific here, the eye candy currently partnered up with Ray Vecchio.

Having Ray as your brother made getting closer to the gorgeous Benton Fraser a lot easier, for all the good it did. The guy was oblivious. Totally oblivious. What did you have to do to get noticed by him, wear a sign around your neck or something?

"Francisco, you got those files I asked for?" Lieutenant Welsh bellowed through the open door of his office. Frankie sighed and dragged his eyes away from the almost hypnotic view of Fraser's rear end waving about in the air; as the constable bent down to hear what Ray was saying. They laughed at some private little joke and Frankie made a face. What he wouldn't give to be able to make Fraser laugh like that.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm coming!" Frankie ran his fingers through his short spiky blond hair. He'd been at the salon twice this month, trying out new, styles and shades. Leon, the head stylist, called Frankie his little 'experiment' which would be fine, if only the experiments resulted in him getting a second look from Benny-boy. The five weeks intensive work out at the gym hadn't worked either, and neither had getting the tattoo done on his shoulder. Nothing seemed to grab Fraser's attention.

He found the files in question and got to his feet, making sure to brush against Fraser as he passed. Nothing that could get him slapped with a 'sexual harassment' suit, but enough to feel how solid Fraser was.

Fraser turned around, smiling in a friendly enough fashion. "Francisco," he said, tipping his head in greeting. And there it was, that polite face, the mask he showed to everyone bar Ray. Frankie would have given his very soul to get under that mask, to maybe mess up the perfect Mountie-like hair.

"Fraser," Frankie replied running a long finger across the wide expanse of red serge. He smiled to himself as he heard Fraser breath in sharply and clear his throat. Perhaps, he wasn't so oblivious after all?

The first day Frankie had set eyes on Fraser, he had heard the ping right over the other side of the bull pen. Since then, he'd watched every woman in the station fluttering their eyelashes at the Mountie only to be met with blank stares and that polite smile. He would stake his reputation, what was left of it, that Benny didn't go for chicks. But then again, he didn't seem to be interested in anyone at all, whether it be guy or gal. Totally fucking oblivious.

Frankie dumped the files on Welsh's desk, earning himself a sharp glare, but when he came out into the bullpen, Ray and Fraser had left already. Frankie flopped down into his seat and picked up the file he had been reading.

The only guy that Fraser had any time for was Ray. Hard to believe, that with a choice of the elder Vecchio, and his younger, better looking and... oh yeah, gayer brother, Fraser would set his heart on Ray. Frankie dropped the file into his desk drawer and slammed it shut. Just his luck that the most gorgeous guy in the building would fall for the wrong Vecchio brother.

A couple of hours later, Ray returned without Fraser. Frankie grabbed a faxed mug-shot from the distribution pile and used it as an excuse to go over to the desk. "Hey bro, how's it hangin'?" he said, dropping the fax into Rays tray.

"To the left, as usual. You dye your hair again?" Ray stretched his long legs out until his spine cracked.

"Whadda you care?"

"Whadda I care? I'm your brother. I got a duty to make sure you don't make a fool of yourself..."

"You got a duty to piss me off is what you got. Where's Fraser?"

Ray sighed and pulled the mug-shot out of his tray, ignoring how Frankie leaned his hip against the desk. "Frankie ain't you got work to do?"

"What are you, my supervisor? So... Fraser? You loose him?"

Ray pulled in his legs and leaned close to his brother, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Forget it, bro. He's straight. How many times do I gotta tell ya?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" Ray pushed away from the desk. What the hell would Ray know about it anyway? All he needed was a couple of hours alone with Fraser, and he could prove he was right.

***

"You're not bringing Fraser back to Ma's for Christmas dinner?" Frankie's eyes went wide.

Ray got into the car beside his brother and started the engine. "Kid, the Mountie's my friend; I'm gonna bring him home and feed him to the sharks? You know they'd eat him alive."

Ray pulled the car out into the late afternoon traffic and peeped the horn at some dumbfuck that cut him off. "He's used to wide open tundra, silence, solitude. You know what our house is like at feeding time. Half an hour, and Benny'd be beggin' me to take him back to the Consulate."

Frankie pulled his coat tighter around his neck and shivered. "I was lookin' forward to seeing him out of uniform."

Ray almost slammed into the car in front that had pulled up at a stop sign. "Aww come on Frankie, you're not back to this are you. Look, you know how I feel about your... your...."

"...orientation?"

"Orientation, yeah, and what you do in the privacy of your own home and between consulting adults and all that is... is... your business, okay?"

Frankie leaned back in the car, enjoying his brother's discomfort. Wasn't exactly the first time they'd had this conversation. "And yet I hear a 'but'."

Ray slammed his hand against the steering wheel. "Damn it Frankie! Benny ain't queer. Trust me, I know this."

"And you know this how?" Ray crossed his arms tightly across his chest, staring straight ahead.

Ray was quiet for so long, that Frankie thought he wouldn't answer. Finally, just as he was about to repeat the question, his brother sighed. "You weren't here during the Victoria fiasco. That chick messed him up bad. And I mean BAD. That's why he ain't in a hurry to dive between the sheets again. What it does **not** mean is that he's suddenly battin' for the other side."

Frankie let that slide. He was surprised to hear that there had been even one woman in Fraser's past, but it wasn't entirely unheard off. However, this didn't seem like something Fraser would do. He had more morals than that. Hell, maybe he **had** harboured some feelings for this Victoria woman. That didn't change the fact that Frankie's gaydar pinged like crazy whenever Fraser was near.

"I think your deluding yourself bro," he grinned, turning to look out of the side window. An hour alone with Fraser, that's all he really needed. An hour would prove him right.

"Yeah? Well even if Benny was that way inclined, he'd be way outta your league!" Ray sniped, unable to let it drop. Frank knew he shouldn't get mad at his brother. Out of his whole family, Ray had been by far the most supportive when he'd come out eight years ago.

"Hey, you want me to kick you in the head?" he growled, only half joking.

"Oh look, we're here!" Ray drawled sarcastically, drawing up at the curb outside Frank's apartment block. "Get outta here. And forget about Fraser. Go find yourself a nice Italian boy, make Ma proud."

Normally they would both laugh at that old joke, but Frankie was so not in the mood for that tonight. He got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

He smiled as he leaned against the wall, waiting for the elevator to arrive. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would put the moves on Benton Fraser. And Ray Vecchio could eat his hat. And the Mountie's hat too.

The elevator doors opened, and Frankie was already halfway towards his door when he noticed Fraser leaning against the wall outside the apartment. He almost tripped over his own tongue. God! The guy was sex on a stick in that shiny red uniform, but in civvies, he was just sex. Full stop.

Hold the stick.

And boy would he like to get the chance to hold the... okay, whoa! Down boy!

"Ah, Francisco, good evening," Fraser said, pushing away from the wall. Frankie cast hungry eyes over the tight blue jeans, dark brown hiking boots and leather jacket, all topped off with the ever-present Stetson.

"Good... good evenin'," he stammered, trying to get a grip and walk like the classically trained dancer he'd been before the accident. Poise and Grace, Grace and Poise. He could still hear the tap, tap, tap of Madame Gigi's cane on the polished floor of the dance studio, punctuating those words. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Fraser took off his Stetson and toyed with the brim, turning it round and round in his hands. "Perhaps this is a little presumptuous of me Francisco...."

"Frankie... call me, um, call me Frankie," he grinned, hoping that whatever Fraser was here for, would take at least an hour. Because that's all he needed to prove he was right. An hour.

"Ah, right you are, Frankie. And you must call me Ben."

Ben.

Not 'Benny'?

Not Benito, Benton, Benny-boy, Benton-buddy.

Just Ben.

Okay, cool.

Frankie fished his apartment keys out of his back pocket and opened the door. "You wanna come in?"

Fraser shifted from one foot to the other, looking unaccountably nervous. "Before I say yes, or no, would you mind answering a personal question?"

Frankie smiled slowly, giving Fraser one of his blisteringly hot 'from under the lashes' looks. "I don't do 'personal' in the hallway, Ben."

Fraser looked like he might be having second thoughts, but after a brief mental struggle, he nodded quickly and stepped thought the door. "Frankie, do you find me attractive?" he blurted out, before Frankie even had the door closed behind them.

His eyes widened. Okay this was moving way faster than he'd expected. Maybe all he needed was **half** an hour. "Um... yeah, yeah, I... I think you're very...."

"Attractive?" Fraser supplied hopefully.

"Hell, yeah."

Fraser seemed to relax, all the tension leaving his body making him look like a regular guy. The uniform was a mask in itself, Frankie realised. The fact that Fraser had come here tonight without that mask, was an amazing act of trust.

"Thank God! I wasn't sure I was reading your signals correctly."

Frankie smiled, placing one hand on Fraser's chest and the other around his waist, pulling him a little closer. "Ben, I couldn't have been more blatant if I'd stripped naked, stuck a vibrator up my ass, covered myself in whipped cream and sprawled all over Ray's desk."

Fraser's eyes were like saucers. "That's a very... interesting visual image Frankie," he said, placing his Stetson on the chair beside the door.

"Hey, just one thing," Frankie reached for the zipper of the brown leather jacket, drawing in down slowly, until it reached the bottom, and the jacket fell open. "Tell me you're not on the rebound from Ray? Tell me you didn't come on to my brother, get rejected, and decided to settle for Vecchio number two?"

Fraser shrugged out of the jacket, letting it fall to the floor. Under it he was wearing a cable-knit white sweater, which had seen better days. It was a little frayed at the collar and cuffs. "Ray? Ray Vecchio? Good Lord no! Your brother is a wonderful man, kind, generous and warm hearted, but he's not my type. Nor I his."

Frankie grinned and leaned in close to the solid warmth that was Benton Fraser. "Well, okay. So um... what **is** your type?"

"Why, you are Frankie, of course."

So, he didn't need a couple of hours, he didn't need an hour, he didn't even need fifteen minutes.

All he needed was a willing Mountie and any flat surface, and he was right there!

The End


End file.
